Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

I pull back from her heat and her hand and she falls against me.

As her breathing slows, I gently wash her hair, carefully avoiding the small wound on her left temple, and as my hands go down, I close my eyes, grabbing both her breasts in my palms and gently massaging the soap along them. Her nipples harden once again into sharp little peaks.

I can’t help myself, I grip them between my fingers and squeeze.

She moans. “More.”

So I tug and twist, and when her legs begin rubbing together, I release them, ready to move farther down, but freeze.

I don’t know why, but a hint of fright stings my fingertips as I ready myself to feel along her belly, her scars. Scars I’m not sure she cares to hide, but hide to protect the words scrolled along her skin, just under my right palm.

“Captain,” she whispers, her hands coming up to cover mine. “Every piece of me is yours.”

My heart hammers in my chest as she glides our hands slowly along her stomach.

Graze after graze scrapes along my palm, and with every one, a promise locks in my head.

For every sting she felt, I’ll feel.

Every cut she took, I’ll take.

Every pain she suffered, I’ll settle.

She holds our hands just above her abdomen, letting hers fall as I slide slower, washing her between the legs.

I bend, nipping at her ass cheeks as I massage along her thighs and calves.

I stand, moving from the water completely so she can rinse easier as I quickly wash my body.

My eyes fall to the drain as the blood that was matted deeper into my hair, the blood that didn’t come off with the quick rinse I took before I could go back to Zoey, washes away.

Victoria sees it, too, and turns.

She looks up at me, stepping closer with a soft smile on her lips. She pushes onto her toes, wrapping her arms around my neck.

She hugs me to her body as my arms do the same, and for the first fucking time tonight, maybe in days or weeks even, the nails hammering me down are removed, a weight lifted.

What a couple fucking months of trials.

I thought I was tested to the brink when I learned I had a daughter I couldn’t find, let alone see, and again when I did locate her and was forced to leave her where she was until I could get her home, until it was safe enough for her to come home.

I was so fucking wrong.

That was nothing but the lead-up, the training for the finals.

In the back of my mind, I knew I’d have to face Mallory in some way at some point, but I buried it beneath rage and disgust, when really, she deserves none of that.

Not my hate, not my anger.

Not a fucking thing.

She made a decision, one I’ll never understand, but it was hers to make, and I get that now.

Some people aren’t meant to be a parent, or maybe they are, but they’re ready in their own time, should that ever come.

Deep down, though, an active parent or not, there’s love there. I didn’t believe it before, but I can’t deny it now.

Conner Perkins, a man I would have been happy to never have seen again, the man who gave my mother a son when her husband could not. Cancer took his ability, and though it happened all wrong, Perkins gave them me.

He didn’t claim me, not even when they died, and I hate to admit it was the most selfless thing a man could do. I had a family, a purpose and place in life, and he allowed me to keep it when the world was ugly.

But the man showed up today, concerned for a girl he came to know, ready to help, and then when I thought he turned his back, hung up and ran when I reached out for help for the first time in my life, he showed up, giving his for mine.

I’m standing here because of him.

And Zoey came into this world because her mother allowed it.

They loved what they let go, if even only a little.

Will my daughter grow up and wonder why she left her?

I imagine the answer is yes, but I’ll do all I can to make sure she never hurts because of it. I’ll love her with all I have, and I have no doubt the girl against me will, too.

I’ve watched them together, and I tried to refuse what I witnessed, but today, everything came into perspective.

Zoey has no idea what a mother is, but everything my brothers and I got from Miss Maybell, time and attention, love and comfort, she’s gotten since before she was born, and from the most unsuspecting person.

The girl from the group home.

The feisty, rebel blonde I might have missed had she not put herself in front of me, but the second she did, something in me stirred.